


True Romantics Sleep Alone

by afellowofinfinitejest



Series: Jerome Smut [2]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Jerome is pretty mean, POV Second Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, jerome doesn't want to cuddle after
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-26 04:23:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16674433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afellowofinfinitejest/pseuds/afellowofinfinitejest
Summary: You adore Jerome but he is as selfish as ever.





	True Romantics Sleep Alone

Jerome has this way of turning things on you. Often, he appears at your door, wanting something from you. No matter how you’re thinking when you greet him, somewhere between the entrance and your bedroom he manages to make you feel like you approached him.

His face is so close to yours. You can see every freckle, the individual strands in the lock of hair that as fallen to the front of his face. Without thinking, you make an attempt to lean up and kiss him but Jerome jerks away, smirking lazily. “You want a taste?”

He steps back further, drawing your attention to his crotch when he palms himself over the material of his jeans. You whimper quietly, stopping yourself from reaching out at the last second. Instead, you nod carefully. Jerome’s smirk gives way to a grin. “Come here.”

Moving towards him across the bed, you almost drop down to focus on your hands at his belt but Jerome holds your chin. You struggle with the buckle while Jerome watches your expression, amused by the pink tops of your cheeks, the way you pull your lips in to your mouth and across your tongue. Your hand moves past the waistband of his pants as soon as you’ve undone the buttons. Jerome breathes through his nose as you pull him free, wrapping your fingers around him and moving your hand from the base to the tip. Jerome shudders at the feeling of your touch on him, the softness of your skin. “Thought you wanted to taste,” he says playfully, listening to you whine in response. He keeps hold of your head, not letting you move at all.

“Jerome,”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes. Yes, I want to taste you.”

He lets go of you suddenly, letting you lean down start licking at the tip. Jerome chuckles darkly, grasping on to your hair. “Open that mouth for me.” He slides in the first few inches, leaving you to lathe at the underside messily. You move your hands to the base of him, running your nails over his balls and he keens, pushing your head towards him until you gag before pulling back. “Come on, doll, swallow my cock. I know you can.”

Hearing his voice, you glance up at him, seeing the harsh way he bites his own lips, his gaze trained on your mouth.

The next time he pushes forward, you swallow around him, feeling his cock slide down your throat. You focus on keeping your mouth open, on moving your tongue over the base. “So fuckin’ good. Your mouth-”

When you move away for air, Jerome grabs on to your face, holding you where you are until you’re twitching. You can feel your heart beat in every part of your body, the desperate pulsing of your clit. He groans the hard movements of your tongue against his cock as you try to push him out. 

It’s only when you start scratching at his legs desperately that he moves his hands, watching you pull back to gasp and cough, spit around your lips and down your chin. You look so perfectly ruined that his cock twitches. He has your face back in his hands within a second, pulling you to your knees so he can claim your lips. You’re gasping into his mouth, kissing him without resentment. A part of you is thrilled by his willingness to take his own pleasure, wonders how far he’ll take it in the future.

“You’re such a good girl.” He grasps the side of your neck, his thumb touching your jaw, wiping away the saliva. You think about calling him a gentleman, but the thought is paused by the shine in his eyes. “My good girl. Gonna give you want you want, yeah? Take off your clothes for me.”

You do as he says, pulling off your dress and your underwear without care for where they land. In contrast to you, Jerome undresses slowly, watching you wait for him. Aside from the frustration at having to be patient, you don’t mind the moment. He is the first person you would happily sit naked in front of. Bared and vulnerable, you’ve never felt you had to cover yourself from him. Jerome doesn’t make you feel beautiful, exactly, but there’s no room for shame when he’s near. Anything that you’ve hid from others is simply another part of your body to him - something to kiss, something to be scratched and bitten.

His torso covers yours when he climbs over you, moving you to rest on the pillows at the end of the bed. Jerome kisses you again just as his hands drift to your legs, forcing them open for his hand to move against the wetness between your thighs. His tongue, almost soft, his teeth biting at you. Jerome pulls away, grinning when you try to follow, loving the idea that he makes you desperate for any kind of touch. He presses his thumb against your clit harshly before slipping two fingers inside you. You let out a whimper when Jerome pushes deeper, pulling the tips of his fingers over the area that makes you grasp on to his shoulders. “Wet for me, aren’t you? Fucking dripping. What got you like this? Was is just sucking my cock are do you like it when I choke you?”

You can’t respond, don’t really know what the right answer is and couldn’t think about it if you tried. Your clit is hard against his thumb, covered in your wetness. You grab his forearm, making sure he keeps going as your hips jump up to meet him. He groans when your cunt clenches around his fingers as tight as it can get. While you cum, moaning brazenly, Jerome thinks about being inside you. The warmth there, your soft walls gripping him. Every time, all he can think about is getting you there, making you cry out for him more than you did the last time.

Jerome grins wickedly, not moving his hand when he presses his pelvis to yours. He rubs your clit languidly, pulling his fingers upwards until you feel an uncomfortable stretch along with the pleasure of him massaging your spot. “Jerome,” you whine, unsure about what he’s doing.

“Trust me. Gonna make you feel good.” Jerome manoeuvres his head to the space he’s made for himself. His cock drifts under his fingers, slick from your arousal. For you, the discomfort of being stretched is edged by the feeling of being full. By the time Jerome starts moving, you have a hand on his forearm, keeping his fingers where they are. 

Jerome groans, the effort of pushing in to you worth it for the impossible tightness around his cock. “Talk to me, doll.”

When you don’t answer, he forces the pads of his fingers up, making you gasp and dig your nails in to his arm. “So good, Jerome. So full-” You make a noise that causes his cock to twitch inside you, searching desperately for release. “Love your cock, love your hands. Don’t stop - please. I’m so close. Don’t-” You throw your head back, your hips jerking towards him. Your whole body is flushed pink, your mouth is left open between red lips.

Jerome makes a noise like a growl, rubbing circles in to your clit. He tucks the image of you, legs open, body uncovered and vulnerable, away in his head. Your walls seize around him, the warm pleasurable ache of your orgasm spreading from your cunt through your whole body. Jerome groans at the feeling, his cock twitching until he buries himself deep inside you one last time as he cums.

He lets you touch your lips to his, breathing to and from each other. Jerome pulls back his hips, runs his thumb over your clit mischievously. Pride overtakes him when you whine, scratching at his wrist in protest

Within minutes, he’s almost fully dressed, standing at the end of your bed.

“You could stay, for a while. If you wanted.” He raises his eyebrows at you before his jarring laugh escapes. 

“If I wanted.” He affirms, shaking his head at you as he does up his belt. You feel yourself ache inside, resenting him for doing this every time. Jerome catches your sour expression and ceases his chuckling, leaning down to face you. When you turn your head, he catches your cheek. “I know you don’t want me to stay, really.”

“You don’t know anything about me.” 

You’re hurt, he’s hurt you, and it doesn’t please him like he wishes it did. Though Jerome sees his efforts to remain apathetic to the people around him as being largely successful, you set off something of a panic in him when he feels you might turn him away next time he visits. 

Still, he’s not one for sensitivity. “C’mon, doll. I like you because normally you don’t pull this delicate shit on me.”

“You like me because I have a cunt between my legs.” You spit, slapping his hand away. 

Jerome feels a twisted excitement at your vulgar language. “You have heaven between your legs.” He can’t help himself when he grins. “So, you’re not wrong, exactly.”

“Fuck off.”

Jerome rolls his eyes fondly, moves to sit behind you, pulling your back against his chest. He bites at your shoulder before kissing the spot almost tenderly. “I know everything about you. I know exactly who you are,” he tells you, moving his lips up your neck. “I know how desperately you want to be free, I know that I make you feel that you are because inside we’re just the same.” You turn your head towards him, eyebrows furrowed as a sign that you’re still angry, but willing to listen. “And I like you because of how free you make me feel.”

Jerome presses his lips to yours, caressing the skin of your stomach as gently as he can. He likes having you naked and against him while he’s fully clothed, almost wants to flip you over and take you this way. But there’s a time for it. You’re not frowning when you pull away and Jerome feels satisfied that he’s done enough. Still, you elbow him as he stands, repeating your earlier words, this time with much less bite. “Go on, fuck off.”

“I’ll see you later, gorgeous,” he answers, grabbing his gun from the bedside table and making his way to the door. “Don’t wait up for me!”

He hears you sigh sadly, but resigns himself that there’s nothing he can do to make you feel better, not really. He could change, and he won’t. Or he could let you go.

But Jerome couldn’t. Even if he thinks you deserve better, even if he knows that you do, he won’t send you away or even cease showing up at your door when he craves your hands on him. He’s a selfish boy, more than he is a giving man.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This can be read, along with my other Jerome writings, on my tumblr, afellowofinfinitejest. This has been up there for over two years but I want to start posting on here.


End file.
